


Earthquakes

by inabathrobe



Category: Watchmen (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-21
Updated: 2010-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inabathrobe/pseuds/inabathrobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a nine on Adrian's emotional Richter scale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earthquakes

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted anonymously on the Kink Meme.](http://spam-monster.livejournal.com/3498.html?thread=8794282#t8794282)
> 
>  
> 
> Content warnings: misogyny, domestic abuse

Adrian is smoking. It takes a lot to get Adrian to smoke. While it takes marginally less to get Adrian to swear loudly and prolifically in German, it still takes quite a bit. For comparison's sake, when a family friend called Adrian at boarding school to let him know that his mother had died, he smoked. It was approximately a five on Adrian's personal Richter scale. Weak emotional structures had fallen down, but he had survived. When the Comedian had decided to find out if he had the same charming masochistic tendencies as his predecessor as what the Comedian had so charmingly dubbed the "resident fag in tights" (and thank you, Nelson Gardner, for giving him _so_ much to live up to) and had given Adrian a sound beating in the process, leading Adrian to do some serious self-reflection afterward as to what the Comedian's conclusion ought to be, Adrian had gone through two packs of cigarettes and all the foreign profanity he knew. It was an eight on the Richter scale.

What has just happened constitutes a nine. It is a personal best. If Adrian liked pain, he would be as happy (or at least as hard) as a clam. As it is, he is glad that he keeps a full pack of cigarettes on him for emergencies. Adrian must never be unprepared to smoke naked in full view of a (hopefully sleeping) New York City on the balcony of his latest serial fuck's apartment.

Footsteps behind him. Oh. Oh, no. He is not going to try to make this better. "Adrian, look, you're overreacting."

"Ah, yes. Of course. I am overreacting completely." No, overreacting is what he is going to do if the Comedian actually tries to smooth this over by blaming him. Overreacting is telling him that he's not a particularly good lay in the first place. Overreacting is giving him an incurable venereal disease. Overreacting is pretending to be a prostitute and calling a local paper to tell them that the Comedian was one of his johns. Overreacting is throwing him off the balcony.

These are all good options, and Adrian makes a mental note to deploy most or all of them if the Comedian doesn't produce a really good apology.

He leans against the railing next to Adrian. "Now, what d'you say you come back to bed and we maybe try that again?"

"Oh, I think that would be delightful," Adrian says, putting his cigarette out on the other man's arm. The punch, aimed at Adrian's face, might have broken a bone if Adrian had not caught it midair. "Please stop trying to blame this on me."

"Yeah, I gave myself this cigarette burn. _Fuck_ , Adrian."

Adrian looks over at him, bemused because that's easier than being livid. "It isn't my fault that we aren't." Adrian starts on his third cigarette. It is a poor substitute for the Comedian's cock, but Adrian isn't sucking him off for a month after this. "I'm fairly sure that I did remember to say your name when I came, _Eddie_."

"You're being an absolute cunt about this."

"That's funny."

"It wasn't. I know; I am funny."

"No, you see, it's funny because I don't have one and she does."

"Adrian—"

A sharp wind blows across the New York night, and Adrian twists in the darkness. The little noise that the Comedian makes in the back of his throat mollifies Adrian's reeling sense of being unwanted. Adrian preens, leaning on the balcony railing. "Go back in. Lie down. When I finish this cigarette, I am going to fuck every memory of that twat out of your mind.

"Are we clear?"

The slap on his ass as the Comedian retreats says that they are. Good.


End file.
